Unnecessary
by Ali3nn3
Summary: It's a few months since people in the castle were changed into inanimate objects, and some of them cope better. Some worse. Cogsworth belongs to the second category. Lumiere/Cogsworth, nothing graphic.


**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

**Warning:** slight character abuse (by the author), introduction to m/m

**Story:** A few months after the enchantment that changed the whole castle Cogsworth starts to crack at the edges. Lumière/Cogswort, nothing graphic.

**A/N:** My first and very probably only story based on Beauty and the Beast. My way of putting Lumière and Cogsworth together. Training angst. I consider everything I write right now as training, as I am never completely satisfied with how it turns out, but surprise surprise, when I read some of my older fics a few days ago, I liked them. Not all of them though, and those will need some major editing... One day... Please, comment if you enjoy, and comment even if you don't. Definitely comment if you are willing and capable of beta-ing this.

* * *

_**Unnecessary**_

_by Ali3nn3_

It was annoying, irritating and completely unfair, the easy way Lumière adjusted to his new candlestick form.

Cogsworth watched him from the side, doing his best to ignore the insistent ticking that accompanied him everywhere he went now. While he was doing his job, ordering everybody around or oh-so-unsuccessfully denying the fear he felt inside, he ticked. And tocked.

He was a clock now, and he didn't know if he, if they, would ever become human again. But there were always his duties and he had his job to do; he couldn't simply curl up in his bed, pull the covers over his head and weep for things lost, nor could he disappear in some dark corner to indulge in a big bout of self-pity.

It was going to be fine, he told himself. He would get used to this. After all, it wasn't so much different from before, right? There was glass and wood in place of flesh now, and his heartbeat was replaced by the steady ticking and clicking of the cogs, and he didn't have any hair and his moustache served as clock-hands, but it was still _him, _right_?_

Only he wasn't so sure about that any more. He was starting to forget what being human had meant, what it had been like, and he was scared, and there wasn't anybody to assure him that everything was going to be fine. There had been no one for a long time.

That's why Lumière annoyed him so, and that's why he started to avoid the exuberant candlestick recently: because the luminous idiot didn't seem to need such assurances. He was so obviously still Lumière, chasing everything even remotely female, being nosy, and _laughing_ all the time, at the stupidest things... Cogsworth haven't laughed in a long time, ever since this whole predicament began. He couldn't. Things changed after the spell, and there was no reason to anymore.

Before... He had never been popular, in fact, he knew he was quite disliked, but he did have a few friends. Mrs. Potts, for example, but right now she was too busy taking care of her children and everybody else in the castle, including their Master, and didn't have time to talk to him like before. And as a clock, he didn't need to eat, so he didn't even have a reason to go to her kitchens.

He had also thought he and Lumière were something like friends, before. They always argued, but Lumière was funny if he wanted to be, and he brought life and light to every place he went. And Cogsworth was good at being the responsible one and checking the wildest ideas in. Also, Lumière had a bad habit to forget his meals, the reason he was so rail-thin, and Cogsworth never failed to remember and remind him of the lunch break. They had worked well together.

But since they transformed, all that stopped. The burning idiot was too busy running around like a child and neglecting his work, and Cogsworth was feeling... lonely, even if he refused to admit it.

He turned sharply away. He had work to do. Duties. The castle would end up in ruin without him.

On his way he scolded a couple of maids/feather dusters that were gossiping instead of dusting and ordered a few footmen/floor clothes to wash the floor again, as there were still dirty places on it. He pretended not to hear their badmouthing him when they thought he was out of earshot. He was used to it.

On his journey through the hallways he caught a flash of light in one of the closets, and quiet giggling sounded from under the door. Oh yes, he knew who that was, he knew it very well, an he was looking forward to the argument that was sure to ensue. Cogsworth took a deep breath, prepared to yell, and stepped closer to the closet door regally.

„Lumière… We shouldn't… what if somebody finds us? We still have work to do..."

„Do not worry, ma chérie, nobody will come. Now let me warm you up a little..."

Another giggle sounded. „Stop it, really. You know that Cogsworth has an uncanny sense when it comes to catching us together, and he is such a prude."

„Don't think about that stuck up old clock now, ma belle, think only about me. He is only jealous of us."

Jealous, him? Oh, when he catches that idiotic candle! He will personally snug off all his flames and wring his ornate neck! How dare they...?

„Oooh, not there... Lumière... Oh! Ohh... You are right... he is not important... please continue... we don't need him... yes... he is so annoying..."

Not important? Annoying? Ooh, he is going to show them how unimportant he really is! The metal of Cogsworth's fists almost broke from the pressure.

„Yes, ma belle..."

The words were more a moan than an answer, but it stopped Cogsworth cold. For a second even the ticking in the place that used to be his chest quieted. So Lumière too thought he was unnecessary? That they... didn't need him? Not even his friends? Nobody? He knew he wasn't much liked, but Cogsworth had always believed he was needed. So... it wasn't like that? He shook himself, trying to get rid of the painful, nagging thought, but unsuccessfully. He should just ignore it, as something said in the heat of the moment, but the fact of who said it made that impossible, for some reason.

Then anger finally came, and pushed the hurt away. All right! If they didn't need him, he didn't have to be here! Why should he destroy his nerves and break his cogs for such an ungrateful band of household items?

He liked their Master, but the truth was, the Master didn't care about things like cleanness or regularity of his meals any more. He didn't even notice the servants since he became the Beast.

No... they might be right after all. They might just be right. He might not be needed here any more. And if he wasn't useful... What was he good for?

No, he should just leave. Maybe even leave the castle... But where would he go? This was he only place he could call his, even if it did technically belong to the Master. He didn't have any family or friends outside of here, and he was a clock, for God's sake, talking and moving magical clock. Not easy to find a new job in such a shape, not to mention the chance to become human again would be completely lost if he left the castle. He really didn't have anywhere to go.

In that moment Cogsworth felt very, very old and very, very worthless.

He turned away from the closed door and the sounds leaking from under it. Nobody was there to see him climbing the stairs, and nobody was there to see him sneak into one of the unused, hidden rooms on the top floor of the tower. And he was sure that even if somebody were there, they wouldn't care.

– – ~ oOo ~ – –

As those things went, it was less than half a day when they noticed him missing, and almost a week till they seriously started to worry.

At first, the servants all supposed he was somewhere else in the castle, scolding somebody else, and enjoyed the unusual freedom, stopping in their duties and taking a prolonged break every half-hour. The rooms weren't cleaned, nor the lamps refilled with oil, nor the floors washed and the sheets dusted. Nobody cared; after all, there were no guests in the castle, their Master didn't even notice those things and there was no Cogsworth to scold them for laziness any more, so what was the point?

On the third day after the butler's disappearance, Mrs. Potts left her kitchen for the first time in months and searched out Lumière. She found him in the door of Cogsworth's old room, looking as concerned as she felt. They were both silent for a while, then the candlestick said: „He is gone."

„Are you sure about that? Maybe something happened to him. He would never leave his duties like this, without saying anything first! Maybe a thief snuck to the castle and stole him, or maybe he fell somewhere and can't get out. Oh my poor Cogsworth, maybe he is laying somewhere, hurting right now and..." Mrs. Potts sniffed worriedly.

Lumière tried to console her. „I am sure he is all right. Maybe he simply needed a break, after all that happened in the last months, and tomorrow he will be back like nothing happened. Let's stay calm for now. It is only three days after all."

„Yes... yes, you are right. I did notice him looking out of sorts and depressed lately, but I was so busy in the kitchen... Children couldn't get used to sleeping in their cupboard at night, and the other servants were all so worried about the future, I had to take care of them first. And I was sure that if something really was wrong, he would go to you. Did he say anything to you?"

She hasn't sounded accusing in the slightest, but Lumière couldn't help feeling guilty anyway. He _had _been neglecting his friend during the last few months. He was unable to look her in the eyes when answering: „No... we didn't talk much lately. There were so many things to get used to, and so much more work because we all shrunk, there wasn't the time. But he seemed fine to me when I saw him last. Ordering everybody around like usual. He insisted on washing the curtains as we always do at this time of year, but it was terribly difficult to get them down and they weren't so dirty, so we argued about it for a while. In the end the whole thing fell on his head and he left in a huff." He shook his head, remembering.

„But what could have happened then? If he simply wanted a break, he would surely mention it to one of us. We are his only friends." Mrs. Potts still sounded worried.

„Well, let's go find him, then. I doubt he would leave the castle. It is his home." The candlestick straightened, resolved. He was aware he hadn't been a best friend lately, and with Mrs. Potts saying it like that, he was feeling quite a villain for it. Poor old clock didn't have anybody else than the two of them to care for him after all. It was mostly Cogsworth's own fault, true, but it was still quite pitiful.

It took them almost a week to search the castle, as at first more than a half of the servants refused to help, happy about the butler's absence. Even after the seventh day passed and all the maids finally decided to join the search, the castle was big, and they mostly weren't.

Lumière was feeling extremely worried by now, and for the first time he realized how used he grown to the annoying clock's incessant grumbling. He had always thought it was him who was doing Cogsworth a favour by associating with that overly serious stickler and shaking his world a little, making his life more interesting. Lumière enjoyed their bickering too, of course, but he could do without, or so he had thought. But now he _missed_ him, strongly and painfully. The image of the clock lying somewhere, shattered and broken, _dead_, was appearing in his mind more and more often, and even the thought made his wax solidify and his flames quench. He was so shaken that he refused pretty Babette's flirting yesterday! They had to find Cogsworth, and find him soon, and Lumière swore to himself he would apologize for everything he ever did to the butler and then tie the clock to him so he could never disappear like this again. But they had run out of places to search by now. Where could he _be_?

Come to think, there was one room nobody dared to go into, no, not only room, one whole floor...

– – ~ oOo ~ – –

Cogsworth in the meantime was faring much better than he believed he could.

After those few days of self-pity and depression, and subconscious waiting for somebody to come looking for him, he resigned to the fact he really wasn't needed any more.

The realization, as painful as it was, was also freeing in a way. He didn't need to be the bad guy, he didn't have all that heavy responsibility on his shoulders any more. For the first time in years he could do anything he wanted, any time he wanted.

We are all better off this way, he thought. Mrs. Potts, the servants, even Lumière... Mostly Lumière. Here the ticking in his chest stopped for a moment. It was doing this quite often, lately. He would be worried, were he still alive, but as he didn't need to eat, breathe nor sleep now, and had no heart, the probability of dying from heart failure was a remote one. It was annoying, though; as a clock, he should be orderly and regular, especially when it came to ticking and tocking. How typical for _that guy_, he didn't even have to be here to aggravate him.

After the first few days of wallowing in his self-pity passed he finally sank into the comfortable numbness, and the time went on without him especially noticing it. He cleaned his hiding room a little, removing some of the dust, then decided to let it be. He didn't _like_ cleaning. He proceeded to read all the books present instead. Then, when he run out of reading material, he snuck to the library for more. This was his castle, and he knew how to get anywhere without being seen; something that always came handy before when catching Lumière with one of the maids. But he didn't care about that now. He didn't want to care about anything except himself now. Right.

In the morning and in the evening he regularly stopped reading to watch the sunrise and sunset, and at midnight he spent an hour watching stars and seeking out familiar constellations, astronomy book being one of his favourites. He didn't even realize that two weeks had passed.

He was on the window sill, rereading the book about gardening, the chapter about roses, when the door that never moved since he came here opened, a triple light illuminating the room.

„Cogsworth? Are you here?" For a short second Lumière didn't see anything, then he heard the steady ticking and looked up. And there he was. Looking right at the candlestick, silent, but unhurt, was the person – object – they were all searching for for the whole two weeks.

Lumière's first reaction, after relief, was anger. How _dare_ he disappear and hide like this, and make them all worry? Make Lumière worry? How can he... But he checked it in immediately.

Cogsworth still didn't say anything, in fact, he went back to reading his book. It was obvious to Lumière that something was wrong.

He climbed up on the window sill, closer to his old friend. He wanted to hug him and yell at him and cry, but he did neither. He looked down at the gardening book, then up at the clock. „What are you doing?"

The butler didn't even bother looking at him. „Reading."

„I noticed. But... but there is work to do! Rooms need to be cleaned and, and things polished, and everything!" Lumière sputtered in his surprise, completely unprepared for something like this. Ignoring his duties? That wasn't his Cogsworth! He must be sick or hurt or...!

„Whom for?" Cogsworth asked calmly, still not tearing his eyes from the pages of the book. „Master doesn't care, and there are no guests, nor there will be in the future. It doesn't matter. You don't need me any more. None of you."

Lumière started to seriously worry. „What are you talking about? Of course we need you!"

„It took you over a week to even notice I am gone. I am sure you can all cope quite all right without me. In fact, I am sure the servants will be happier without me always nagging around and you can continue chasing Babette without me interrupting things. I wish you all the luck, and could you leave now, please? I would like to continue reading my book."

Lumière sincerely hated the monotone voice this was said in, and he hated the fact that he couldn't think of anything to say to it even more. Then Cogsworth went back to ignoring him again, and Lumière's patience jumped out the window.

Well, if he wouldn't talk... there were other ways how to get the stubborn clock's attention. He allowed one of his flames to grow, and then put a hand close to Cogsworths back. It was immensely satisfying when the clock jumped, screeched and finally looked into his eyes.

„What are you doing, you stupid bundle of wax?"

„Getting your full attention. Now you listen to me, and listen carefully, because I will only say it once! It is not true that nobody cares, and you should already know it! Some of the servants care. Mrs. Potts cares. She was practically beside herself with worry after your unannounced disappearance, and you will have to apologize for that! Lying down on the floor and begging sincerely will do. And..." he took a deep breath, „_I_ care. You are my friend, my best friend, and I am used to you scolding me and arguing with me and being _around _me. I need you, and I missed you, and aidez-moi mon Dieu, I _like_ you. So if you ever do something like this again, _ever_, I will personally find you and pick you apart screw by screw, cog by cog. Understood?"

Cogsworth was staring at him as if he turned into candelabra, which he did, so that wasn't so surprising, but he could swear that the clock was _ blushing_. He didn't believe his eyes. Then Lumière remembered what exactly he just said, and his flames too turned distinctly red.

„L-l-like me? A-as in _like_ l-liking me? I-I mean..." Cogsworth seemed unable to continue, and Lumière sighed to himself and thought he must really be out of his mind, or in love, because he found even this stuttering _endearing_.

„It seems so, mon ami." He sighed again, then pulled the stunned clock into his arms.

„What about you?"

„Well, I. I."

„You seemed to go out of your way searching me and Babette out and interrupting our little tête-à-têtes all the time. I would almost say you were jealous."

„What? No way! I am _not_ jealous of you and that flirty little feather duster! I never! How dare you insinuate something like that?"

„So you don't like me?" Pouted Lumière mischievously.

Cogsworth finally seemed to find some of his previous calm. „It's ridiculous! You _don't_ like _me_! What about all those girls? You can't tell me you were only pretending all that! I saw you!"

„Of course I enjoyed a little tussle here and there. We never went further than a few kisses, though. They wouldn't allow it." Here the candlestick seemed a little regretful, then smiled winningly again. „In any way, it didn't mean anything. They knew that, I knew that. It was just some innocent fun."

Cogsworth snorted. „Innocent fun! There was nothing innocent about that!"

„Careful, mon ami. You are starting to sound jealous again. And I believe the question was: do you love me?"

Cogsworth closed his mouth so fast it clicked. „W-we are both men!"

„No, we aren't. We are a clock and a candelabra. And your point is?"

„It's... you cannot like me! I am old, fat, and overly serious, you said so yourself! Completely unlikeable!"

„You are only few years older than me, even though you like to pretend otherwise, and I never said you were fat. In fact, I think you are quite a handsome clock, as far as clocks go. And it would be my pleasure to do something about that seriousness of yours. And you still didn't answer."

With that Lumière stooped down a little and kissed Cogsworth gently. Then he pulled away for a second, took in the dazed look in his friends eyes, and dived in for much longer and deeper kiss. How lucky neither one of them needed to breathe.

When they finally stopped, they were both glad they didn't have knees in this form, as neither of them would be able to stay standing otherwise. Lumière carefully muted his flames, which got a little out of hand, and listened to the too fast ticking coming from the clock in front of him. When it calmed down, he threw a hand around Cogsworth's shoulders and asked: „So can I take it you do love me?"

Suddenly red as a tomato and full of indignation, Cogsworth turned away. „We need to go back. There is work that needs to be done, as I am sure that while I was gone, you were all lazying around." He moved out of the room.

Lumière was left standing alone on the window sill, for some reason feeling both profound relief and deep sadness all at once. He couldn't decide which was stronger.

At the door the embarrassed clock stopped, cleared his throat and turned around brusquely. He looked unflinchingly at Lumière: „Yes, I think I d-do l-like you. So if you try to f-flirt with anybody in this castle... t-that is, anybody other than me, you are going to regret it most strongly. Now, come on!"

And any sadness he ever felt was abruptly gone as Lumière gave Cogsworth his brightest grin, jumping to the floor and following him out the door. „So, mon amour, I can flirt with you when I want to? Because you know..."

Their voices disappeared in the distance. Maybe things _were_ going to be all right in the end.

= The End =


End file.
